Chapter 2: Orientation Day

Byleth awoke with a start. That had been a very strange dream. The part of it with the battle he'd seen once before, but the rest had been entirely new. It unsettled him. It also unsettled him that he was unsettled at all. That weirdness aside, his curiosity was roused by the dream's ending. Was Sitri truly his mother's name? Why had his father never said anything about it?

Despite his troubled thoughts, the mercenary rose up from his bed and began his morning routine. First, check for intruders, check for his dagger beneath the pillow, then check if the tent showed signs of nightly intrusion. That done, he moved outside, checked his surroundings again, and, after spotting the sentries, moved towards the spring by which his father's mercenary company had set up camp. Heedless of its frigid temperature, he made liberal use of the water.

Washed and refreshed, Byleth headed back to the tent and switched his seasonally appropriate nightclothes for his normal clothing and armour. He put the belts in their proper place, as well as the sheathes for his sword and dagger. Just as he was about to head outside again to get the shift report from the sentries, he stopped.

"-th.. c- …ea…"

The sudden noise inside his head startled the him. What was that?

"-eth… B- … Holy Hell, work you piece of- Oh. Byleth? Did I finally get a connection?"

Weirded out, he nodded, though he quickly realised that this unexpected voice's owner, who seemed to be that strange man Hyperion from his dream, likely was not able to see him. Therefore, he chose to answer verbally.

"Yes."

"Thank fuck," sighed Hyperion. "Pardon the profanity, but goodness gracious, figuring out how to talk to you while you're awake was a chore and a half, even with the systems I have here. I have no clue how Sothis figured this out instinctively in the other timelines."

He was still doubting that part about the strange man's tale. Claiming knowledge of multiple timelines was ludicrous. While magic was very much real, no known practitioner had ever figured out how to cast magic capable of manipulating time.

"That is a good point," said Hyperion. "Except for the part that what you're talking about is the magic of mortals. Sothis is a Goddess. The Goddess according to the Church of Seiros."

That threw him for a loop. Then he remembered that his interlocutor had mentioned something to that effect last night. If that girl really was the Goddess, then it was possible that she had power over time. But what would a goddess be doing in his head?

"You said she was the reason I am alive right now and that her heart was within me," began Byleth. "How? And why?"

Hyperion's voice sounded a bit more enthusiastic as he answered. "You're asking the big questions here, my friend! Good questions too. The answer to both is rather complicated, and I'd like for Jeralt to be there when I answer them in full, even though he can't exactly hear me. Until you get a hold of him, have the short version: Why are you alive now? As a Goddess, Sothis' primary domains are the Nile River, Life, Death, Fire and Time. How come she's within you? It's part of a very long-winded resurrection scheme.

But we can shelve that for now. You still have a schedule to follow, right? It would be best if you went along with that. Oh, before I forget, try to think at me instead of talking. People might think you're crazy if they see you talking with what they believe to be air."

Seeing the logic in that, Byleth nodded and focussed for a bit. He then attempted to project his thoughts. "Does it work like this?"

"Yep," came the answer. "You're getting the hang of this awfully fast. Excellent. With that out of the way, I bid you a good day for now. I'll fiddle around some more with the stuff I've got here and look after Sothis. She's still asleep."

A thought flashed through the mercenary's head. "Wait," he said. "I have a question about what happened last night."

"Ask away, then."

He proceeded to do just that. "Why did we embrace her the way you insisted we do? I understand that restraining her to keep her from injuring herself is sensical, but there was more to it. I wish for you to explain."

Hyperion made a noise of comprehension. "I see. Are you asking about the emotional intention behind it?"

"Yes. It is… confusing," answered Byleth.

"This might surprise you, but I, like you, have problems understanding emotions, my own and those of others. I don't have it as bad as I suspect you do, but that's how it is," came the response. Byleth was a bit perplexed. Unperturbed, Hyperion continued his explanation, "My reaction to her… fit was part desire and part rationale. For one, I desire to be friends with her. With you too, by the by. I'm stuck in your head for the remainder of your life, after all. Anyway, the rationale part was that hugs convey affection and, hopefully, provide a form of emotional shelter. In hindsight, it was probably too early for such gestures, considering that I am a complete stranger to her, but that's the heat of the moment for you."

"I see. Thank you for the explanation," was all Byleth said in response.

"You're welcome. Anyway, I'm off now. See ya later," said Hyperion.

With that, his presence retreated from Byleth's mind.

I leaned back in my chair, backing away from the monitor-microphone combination in front of me. That conversation had a bit of an odd end, but it felt nice to talk to someone with whom I could be blunt without giving offence. We'd probably talk about that topic later, but there was another thing that confused me. I somehow seemed to know things I shouldn't be able to know. For example, before I'd come here, I had suspected that Sothis held the domains I had mentioned, yet now I was sure. Those were thoughts for later though. Right now, there were other things to do.

As I stood up, I took a moment to stretch before heading off towards the back area and the bed. The blue glow that I had come to associate with me was now replaced by Sothis' green one, though a hint of blue persisted here and there. That was a bit strange, but I guessed it made sense. Sothis was using it right now, after all.

Luckily, so it seemed, her sleep was restful. Her face was relaxed, a complete opposite of the contortion it had undergone when she'd been remembering what I assumed had been her death. I took that as a good sign.

Turning away from her, I went back to my command centre. There was still much work to be done, much as I loathed doing tedious things. The cursory look I had given the computer-like device during the night was not really sufficient in my opinion. Of course, I had already gone through parts of the databanks and familiarised myself with some systems, but it seemed that there was still a lot to cover.

Blinded as I had been by the Wiki section of the databank, I had neglected other parts that, in hindsight, were just as important, if not more so. There was a lot of stuff to go over, such as magic theory for the Reason and Faith branches. I only realised what a massive can of worms the latter was when I looked at one of its sub-sections. Just one little word, one term, that would likely cause me massive headaches going forward:

Thaumaturgy

"Bloody hell," I sighed out. Literal miracle-working. An entire brand of Faith magic no one in Fodlan seems to be using. Oh joy. I just knew that this was an aftereffect of that "dream" I'd had before landing in Byleth's mindscape.

And suddenly, it clicked. I now had an idea why I seemed to have knowledge of things I shouldn't know. If the voices I had heard back then really were who I was fearing they were, things were suddenly looking a bit more… complicated. The name I had taken was far more than just a name if I was right. There was now a pretty high potential of me getting into very hot water.

"Not looking forward to that particular shitshow," I muttered.

Well, potential problems with deities aside, there were more mundane concerns to be seen to right now. I needed a game plan. Multiple, in fact, depending on the current date. If I'd arrived some time before the start of the game's plot, I had more time, of course, but also more options. Could Monica be saved? Should she be saved if we could do it? Messing around with that part of the Agarthans' plans could alter events beyond recognition, but the help of Baron Ochs could be invaluable. From the moral perspective, saving Monica was also the right thing to do, even if that would doom another innocent soul to the fate meant for her.

In any case, any kind of additional time was welcome. Getting Byleth to train harder and having him learn some magic before arriving at Garreg Mach would certainly be on the table. Then again, his daily schedule might interfere. I'd have to wait for a full discussion with everyone to get a good handle on the situation, but it certainly wouldn't hurt to prepare for some eventualities.

She was floating through the darkness. It was not of a frightening kind, no. This felt comforting, warm and somehow a bit familiar. It soothed the pain that was still fresh on her mind. Humming in contentment, Sothis continued to drift through the vast blackness of the place she was in.

Voices in the distance drew her attention as her path seemed to take her closer to them. In time, she could make out silhouettes in the darkness. A lot of them were men with beards, but there were also some clean-shaven ones and quite a few women.

"The die is cast, as one of your champions once said, Mars," said one of the women.

"Can it, Minerva! You and Athena really almost the same! Always harping on about the wisdom of moderation. Pah!" That voice didn't seem so nice. "Your vaunted wisdom has upset the weave the Fates-"

"Be silent!" roared a third voice. Sothis looked into the direction it came from. The light it emanated should have blinded her, but it did not, would not. It continued. "The Fates have landed us in this mess to begin with. Their decrepit minds have never been completely accurate either, or have you forgotten Aurelian's death? Or our deaths? Or their own? It all went against their bloody prophecy! So, it would be in your best interest to stop making a fool of yourself and start paying heed to good sense. Understood?"

"Yes, Lord Sol," answered the man named Mars, though he did not sound particularly happy about it.

"Good. Now, both of you, shut up and let Hyperion speak. Our guest is here."

So, they did notice me, thought Sothis. But I don't see Hyperion here. Where is he?

The thought of the man brought mixed feelings to the fore. He seemed like the accommodating sort, but he'd also made her remember the worst thing she'd ever experienced. His attempt at calming her down, so her foggy memory of that moment told her, was awkward and not very effective but appreciated nevertheless.

A new voice brought her out of her reverie. "It's good that you're here, little cousin. Be welcome."

The tall, bearded man to whom it belonged smiled kindly at her. He had stepped out from the mass of people standing in the void.

"Little cousin?! You're being awfully familiar for somebody who has just met me for the first time!" exclaimed Sothis. "Though you do seem familiar…"

The man laughed heartily. "You're still the spitfire I remember!" he said. "Or rather, you are again. You'll probably mellow out a bit as your memories return. You did so last time you grew up."

The smile he'd been wearing on his face took a melancholic turn before it went back to normal. "Still, the absence of your memories causes a problem. I must introduce myself again. My name is Hyperion, Hyperion the Elder to be more precise. It makes it easier to keep me apart from the man to whom I have recently given my name, doesn't it?"

"You gave him your name? What is that supposed to mean?" she asked. "It feels as though I should know, but I don't. How vexing!"

"It will all come back in time, dear Sothis. True Names have power, and mine was given to someone who is willing to help you," answered Hyperion the Elder. "He still doesn't have all the information he will need to fix the mess we and your Children and the humans have made of the world, but he'll get there."

Sothis stared at him. "We? My Children? I do not understand. Ugh, my head…"

Hyperion laughed again. His eyes twinkling, he said "Have a look around you. Do we look like humans? Sol glows, and he's not the only one. No, we're definitely not human. All present here are Gods or other types of deities, including yourself."

"So many," she breathed out as she took the time to truly look around. Hundreds of people were there. She really had no room to dispute the Elder's claim. For one, he was right about Sol not being the only glowing figure. Plus, there were many beings with limbs and shapes not present in humans.

"Many indeed," came Hyperion's voice. "A lot of us hold you in high regard, for you kept us in your memory by naming so many of your Children after us. It's almost poetic that they… disappeared at the same time as your memories."

"My Children! You have yet to truly talk about them and I cannot remember. You say they disappeared. What happened?" asked Sothis.

The smile Hyperion the Elder had had on his face was nowhere to be seen now. "I will let my successor talk about that. It is neither a happy topic to discuss nor a brief one, and our time grows short."

He looked at her intently and she looked down at her body. It was slowly fading.

"Tell my successor to contact us the same way you did. There is still much-"

Sothis could not catch more of what he was saying. He had already faded from her vision. Then, she felt as though she were falling for a second.

With a small sound, she woke up and opened her eyes.

Byleth took another swing, parrying his opponent's sword. He then executed a counter. His target evaded narrowly, but stumbled and fell. Byleth capitalised on the opportunity and made a fast stab downward, though he slowed down at the last second.

"Good work. You have improved, Lars," he said as he helped his trainee back on his feet.

"Thanks, sir!" responded the lad enthusiastically.

The senior mercenary nodded and then urged Lars to go off to train with the rest of his team. As he watched the recruit's retreating form, he noted that the he had a good head on his shoulders and even better reflexes. He would be a good addition to the company and his team.

The team system had been implemented by Jeralt right from the start of his career as a mercenary and Byleth had seen its effectiveness first-hand over the years. His company, with the exception of him and his father, always operated in teams of five: three at the front, two at the back. It prevented exhaustion as those on the front could always switch places with those at the back if one of them got too tired. On a larger scale, those teams rotated as well, making the entire company one mobile meatgrinder for small-time enemies like poachers and most bandits.

In Byleth's memory, only four mercenaries had ever died in his father's employ. All other losses were due to injury or retirement. Of course, that also had to do with Jeralt's ability to know what fights not to pick. He had rejected dozens of seemingly lucrative contracts for that very reason. It would not do to overestimate his comrades. While most of them were indeed skilled fighters and they employed the team system efficiently, they were still not really a disciplined unit. Against a force on the level of professionals, Jeralt's Mercenary Company would be routed if not completely destroyed. That part had always grated on Byleth's nerves. To mitigate this problem, he had started training the newer recruits.

However, now that the morning drills were largely done, he could move to other matters, namely finding his father for a discussion about his "dreams" and their ramifications. Byleth found him near the cook's tent, as was customary for this time of day. The older man seemed to be engaged in a conversation with one of the camp cooks, but he stopped and turned once he saw Byleth approaching.

"There's something we need to discuss in private," began Byleth.

Jeralt looked at him in askance. "Is it urgent?"

"I don't know, but I feel it's important."

A troubled expression came over the father's face. Byleth rarely mentioned feeling anything. This had to be something significant, then. Saying a quick goodbye to the cook, Jeralt motioned for his son to follow him to the command tent. It was the best spot to talk about things unheard since he'd made sure to have the other tents placed out of hearing distance of it like always.

"So, kid, what did you want me to hear away from the others?" he asked.

There were a few seconds of silence before Byleth spoke, "I've been having strange dreams. A few days ago, I dreamt of a battle. Two great armies clashed on a plain. They fought through the night and an old man named Nemesis and a green haired woman named Seiros fought against each other. The woman won the duel and killed the old man. After those images faded, I saw a green haired girl sleeping on a throne made of stone."

A massive red flag rose in Jeralt's mind. Byleth did not dream. He hadn't dreamt when he was a child. He hadn't had nightmares after his first kill. He had never once mentioned any kind of dream. And then there were the names he wasn't supposed to know. Nodding slowly, Jeralt urged him to continue.

"Last night I had the same dream again, but after the battle's end, the girl I'd seen last time was awake and talking with someone." Something vaguely approaching a grimace wormed its way onto Byleth's face. "The girl introduced herself as Sothis-"

A choked noise from his father caused him to stop. "Did you just say Sothis?" asked Jeralt.

"Yes."

Now it was clear why the kid wanted to talk to him. He had made great efforts to raise his son outside the influence of the Church of Seiros. To hear him say he saw a girl with the Goddess' name appear in his dream when he had only ever heard Rhea - and only Rhea - say it a handful of times, was quite the shock.

"Continue," said Jeralt with a serious face.

"The man talking to her called himself Hyperion. According to him, the battle I dreamt about was the Battle of the Tailtean Plains during the War of Heroes in the year 91. Generally, he appears to know many things. He mentioned that the dream about the battle had supposedly been a memory belonging to Sothis. According to him, I was able to witness it because her heart is within me. When both she and I questioned him about how that could be, he said that Sothis had been there for the battle in the form of the sword Nemesis and his allies had forged from her spine and heart.

I think he wanted to explain more, but then," Byleth paused as if collecting himself, "Then Sothis started screaming and thrashing. I have never heard such a sound before, father. It made me feel cold. It hurt to hear it. Apparently, Hyperion claimed later, she was remembering a lost memory."

Jeralt had grown more and more disturbed as his son continued. The tale was ludicrous, but the feeling he got in his gut told him that there was more to it and that this was a bad omen.

His son went on, "After we calmed Sothis down and she fell asleep, we made sure she was resting comfortably and then continued our talk. I asked him how he knew so many things. He claimed to have seen several timelines of this world. When I shouted at him, he told me that he had proof for part of his claims. It was a piece of information only you could know, he said."

Byleth took a deep breath before finally asking the question he had had on his mind since the night before, "Is my mother's name Sitri?"

His father froze. Nobody could know that. Few knew of Sitri's existence, let alone her name, and the few who knew thought that her child was dead, lost in the great fire twenty years ago.

"Yes," Jeralt finally said, "Your mother's name is… was Sitri."

"I see," muttered Byleth. She truly was dead then. "Why did you never tell me?"

"To protect you", came a sudden voice from inside his head, startling him. Going by its sound, it was Hyperion.

"What?"

Hyperion sounded serious as he responded. "He did it to protect you. He saw threats to your safety and acted to conceal your existence. For your sake, he told you nothing you could have accidentally revealed to any such threat."

"Kid?" interjected Jeralt before he could answer.

"It's Hyperion. He's talking to me," said Byleth. "He said you didn't tell me to protect me from threats."

"He can talk to you, just like that?" asked the older man.

"Yes," was the answer, "There seemed to be problems, initially. Swearing was involved, but the issue appears to be fixed."

"It is," said Hyperion.

"Hyperion confirms."

"I see," was all Jeralt could say to that. At least it meant he would get some damn answers to the questions that were plaguing him.

He took a second to think of what he wanted to ask first. "I have some questions and I need answers, Hyperion. How exactly do you know that Byleth is Sitri's child?"

Byleth himself was also curious about that. He hoped Hyperion would not choose the obvious answer.

"Well, first of all, I did say that I had knowledge of several timelines of this world's near future."

There went that hope.

"However," he continued in defiance of Byleth's thought, "You'll likely want to know how I have such knowledge. It's… well, it's not hard to explain, just hard to believe. The short of it is that I am not from this world, but that I have seen how it's roughly going to develop. You see, where I am from, everyone who knows about Fodlan thinks it is fictitious. You two are merely characters of a game's story to them."

Failing to hide his disbelief, which was quite the achievement for Hyperion, Byleth relayed the disembodied man's words to his father. He, too, just stared.

"Is he serious?"

"Yep."

"He is."

"He wasn't kidding when he said it's hard to believe," muttered Jeralt. "You don't honestly expect us to buy that bogus, do you?"

Hyperion seemed to scoff lightly. "It wouldn't matter anyway. You don't have to believe me about where I got my information. What matters is that we use it and act appropriately."

His words were again relayed by Byleth, who had his own comment to that. "Fair enough, so long as the information is accurate. We should verify that," he said.

Jeralt nodded and added "Have anything more we can check here and now?"

Hyperion was silent for a few seconds before responding "Well, there's the fact that you underwent a blood transfusion ritual courtesy of Rhea. Through it, you obtained the Crest of Seiros and an unnaturally long life. I don't know your exact age, but going by a drunk conversation you once had with Alois, you're quite a bit over a hundred years old."

Byleth blinked. He looked at his father, analysing his features for signs of higher age than he appeared. "Father. Are you really over a hundred years old?"

"He knows that too, then, huh?" muttered Jeralt. He tensed when his son continued.

"Hyperion also said that you received that longevity and your Crest through a blood transfusion ritual."

The older man froze again. He seemed to be doing that a lot today. These rituals were top secret. Only the highest of the highest in the Church of Seiros, the ones involved in them, knew anything about them.

"Kid, don't ever talk to anyone about this, except… except maybe Rhea. She already knows, for obvious reasons," he finally said uneasily.

Byleth nodded. He saw the logic in that. Too many power-hungry fools sought eternal life and longevity was close enough that they would expend many resources and walk over all kinds of dead bodies to get it. That was not even mentioning the chance at gaining a Crest. While Byleth did not particularly care about Crests, he was not blind to the fact that most people in Fodlan did, especially the nobility.

"That reminds me. I have another piece of news for both you and Jeralt. It's an answer to a question you've asked me last night and probably to some questions Jeralt has. It's about your mother's frailty, Rhea's suspicious behaviour and Sothis' presence within you."

Byleth frowned slightly. "Father, Hyperion says there's more. He says it's about my mother, Rhea and Sothis."

Said man took this as his cue to follow up. "I recommend you actually take a notepad and write this down for you and your father to go over. It's a bit long to all keep in your head and retell immediately right now."

Byleth nodded and took out the notepad he always carried with himself. He normally used it to take notes during scouting missions, but it also had other uses, like right now. After he'd readied the thin piece of charcoal he carried with it, he sent a mental signal for Hyperion to continue.

"Let's begin with green hair. I know it doesn't seem particularly logical to start there, but it'll make sense soon. If you look back into your memories, I'm sure you'll notice that every single person with green hair you've ever met carries a Crest of one of the Four Saints or Saint Seiros herself. Take Linhardt von Hevring, the heir to House Hevring, as an example. As far as I'm aware, he's the only one in his family to have green hair. He is also a carrier of the Crest of Cethleann.

Now, as for why that is important, remember that Sothis, the Goddess, has green hair, as does Rhea, the Archbishop whose blood grants longevity. Additionally, if Jeralt actually got to see the blood Rhea transfused into him, he would have noted that it was green as well. Rhea is not even that woman's real name. She is, in truth, Saint Seiros and the origin of that Crest. In a stark contrast to the other known Crests, those of the saints were given as gifts through a ceremony that does not inflict harm and instead transfers certain characteristics together with the Crests. For example, bearers of the Crest of Cethleann have a hard time maintaining their focus, and bearers of the Crest of Timotheos have latent beast-tamer abilities. By the way, if you're wondering what the Hell the Crest of Timotheos is, it's one of the 'lost' Crests of the Four Apostles. I don't quite know if those Crests were also given as a gift, but I suspect they were.

Now, back on topic. As you can probably guess by the green blood, the Saints are not exactly human. They are the Nabateans, a race of beings also known as the Children of the Goddess."

Here, Hyperion stopped talking. There was uncomfortable silence for a few seconds before he spoke again. He sounded like something was up.

"Sorry for the interruption. It looks like Sothis is awake now and listening in. I'll get her caught up on what she missed when we're done here.

Alright then, where was I? Ah yes, the Children of the Goddess. Very few of them were actually her direct children. Seiros is, to my understanding, the youngest of them. They were also not conceived through usual means. Sothis created them out of her own blood. Most Nabateans were simply the descendants of those she created. They're also capable of interbreeding with humans, by the way.

I'm sure you're asking yourselves why I'm telling you all this. We'll soon get to the point where all that becomes relevant. We get back to Nemesis and the ones who facilitated his rise: the Agarthans. When they killed Sothis and made the Sword of the Creator out of her body, they also stole her blood to infuse Nemesis with the Crest of Flames. It enabled him to use the sword to its full capabilities. With it, he went to Zanado, where the Nabateans resided… and proceeded to slaughter them in a bloodbath. The place is called the Red Canyon because of it, even though Nabatean blood is green. The only five survivors I know of were Macuil, Cethleann, Cichol, Indech and Seiros."

There was silence again for some time. Byleth presumed that Sothis was reacting badly to that information. Who could fault her? Finding out that one's family had been massacred. It was a depressing thought.

"Those five are all still alive, actually," Hyperion continued after some time. "Though two of them would be unrecognisable from their statues in the Cathedral of Garreg Mach and a statue of Seiros was never made, for obvious reasons. It would be incredibly suspicious if every second Archbishop looked exactly like Saint Seiros. Cichol and Cethleann spent the last thousand years in hiding because the latter of the two was recovering from the strain the fighting during the War of Heroes put her in. She has recently woken up, however. You'll find them at Garreg Mach, posing as siblings with the names Seteth and Flayn. Indech and Macuil no longer sprout their humanoid appearance, however. When the Children of the Goddess lost their ability to change forms between beastly and humanoid, those two were stuck in their beastly forms. Indech can be found at Lake Teutates, going by the alias of the Immovable. Macuil resides in the southern desert of the Sreng region and is nowadays known as the Windcaller. Seiros still has the ability to change forms at will. Her beastly form is called the Immaculate One. So, Sothis' family is not completely gone.

Anyway, the thing that is relevant for Sothis' presence within you is that Seiros/Rhea knows most of this. When she killed Nemesis, she took the Sword of the Creator, took out the Crest Stone and buried the bone part in a sarcophagus everyone believes houses Saint Seiros' body. From there on, Seiros tried to resurrect Sothis several times. First through something called the Rite of Rising, which is the reason for the obscurity of the Four Apostles, and then through far more questionable means. Knowing that Sothis created her Children with her blood, she sought to emulate her mother. She made a homunculus, an artificial humanoid, and gave it Sothis' heart. She hoped that Sothis would possess that new body, frail and weak though as it was, but it never happened. She repeated that attempt many more times. Her latest homunculus was Sitri. I suspect her frailty was the result of not having her own heart. It must also have been what led to complications during your birth, Byleth. Her body was giving out and your heart wasn't beating. Your mother begged Rhea to save you by attaching Sothis' heart to yours. She did it and you survived. It is that heart that makes your blood flow, even though your own heart doesn't beat. Your father, despite his grief over losing Sitri, noticed Rhea's obsession with you, had you checked over by a doctor and faked your death before disappearing.

And now, Sothis has awoken within you. It might be because you have a functioning body that is largely not artificial and mostly powers itself. Once Rhea knows of your existence, and she will in time, she will likely wait for Sothis to possess you and take over your body. Going by the horrified noises our resident Goddess is making right now, I don't think she'd ever do it. She's too good a person to do that.

Finally, as a closing statement, don't think too badly of Rhea or Seiros or whatever name she chooses to go by. Much of what she has been doing over the centuries Is wrong and I don't think she is truly suited to be in the position of power she is, but deep within, I think she's still that traumatised girl who lost her mother and saw her people getting massacred. She's tried her best to live up to Sothis' legacy and has far too often failed, but when you look at the history of Fodlan and compare to the history of medieval Europe, which is my home's equivalent, her influence has prevented many wars and atrocities over the years.

Just one more thing before I head off and leave you to study this info dump. What is the current date?"

Caught off-guard by the question, Byleth took a moment to answer. "It's the 10th of the Pegasus Moon 1179. Why are you asking?"

Hyperion responded with a question of his own, "Say, what do you and Jeralt think of launching a covert rescue mission and sticking it to the Agarthans?"

AN:

Alright. Here's my first update for this story. I'm sorry for the info dump in the second half of the chapter, but I wanted to get most of it out of the way and let my first little butterfly into the wide world. As you might have noticed in the first half, a lot of different mythologies are going to be involved in at least the background. This is mostly a result of my research into the references present in FE: 3H. Seriously, from Aztec to Irish, Egyptian, Greek and Anglo-Saxon mythology, there's a bit of everything in there.

A kind thank you to the two people who have reviewed so far and all those who favourited and followed this story. I hope my work is living up to your expectations.

As a final note, I'm leaving another story recommendation: More: by Ithic Ascendant is one of the best Danny Phantom fics out there. It follows a darker and grittier theme than the actual series, but mostly manages to avoid devolving into pure edge.

Edit: Revision of the 20th of November 2020. I corrected some spelling and wording errors here and there.

In case any of you were wondering, for the purposes of this story, I have conflated the Norse and Greek Fates. According to Norse prophecy, Baldur and Hodr would be reborn after Ragnarok and rule jointly as kings of the new world. Obviously, this hasn't happened here.